


Little Steps

by m_s_b



Series: Pins and Needles (Junkie!AU) [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 2000AU, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2826953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_s_b/pseuds/m_s_b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seb thought that joining a group therapy was the first step towards his recovery, but he needed something (or someone) else to shake off the old demons and go towards a new, happier life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Steps

**Author's Note:**

> [Teehewz](teehewz.tumblr.com) and I have been toying with this AU idea for quite some time and I have finally managed to sit down and write the whole story down.
> 
> If you want to get some more information, you should definitely check out teehewz's art [here](http://teehewz.tumblr.com/post/103391553753/new-au-alert-not-tellin-you-what-its-about-just) and [here](http://teehewz.tumblr.com/post/104603582513/wiec-chooodz-pomaluj-moj-swiaaaat-new-au).

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably in his chair and looked around discreetly. He had been attending this support group for almost two months now, but he hardly remembered the name of his fellow addicts. It wasn’t a surprise, really - he hardly ever listened to their stories, too focused on his own problems. He was still missing Tom, still suffering from withdrawal and feeling disgusted with himself for making and breaking another promise to himself. So no, he wasn’t really interested in other addicts’ stories - they were all the same, anyway. Right now he was counting the minutes to the end of the meeting.

‘Hello, I’m Jim and I’m an a-addict,’ the soft, lilting voice broke Seb out from his thoughts. He looked up and saw a dark-haired man in an oversized jumper smiling nervously from the podium. Sebastian recognized him, but had never heard him speak before. He glanced at his watch - the break was in 5 minutes so it wouldn’t really hurt to actually listen to someone else’s story this time.

‘When I was a teenager I was diagnosed with O-Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and anxiety disorder. I got meds and attended therapy, but, well, after some time things g-got a bit out of control,’ Jim twisted his fingers nervously, ‘The p-pills quickly became my only way of feeling n-normal. I dropped therapy and visited three psychiatrists at the same time just to get m-more meds. They didn’t know about themselves, the psychiatrists that is,’ he let out a heavy sigh, ‘I always took more than I was supposed to. Sometimes I w-would lose the track of t-time. And then, after a particularly difficult day I really lost it,’ he swallowed, ‘I woke up a week later in a hospital bed. The doctor and n-nurses helped me realize that, that I h-had a problem and that only I can do something about it. So I did - went to the r-rehab and found a therapist,’ Jim stopped for a moment, ‘I’m clean for almost six months now,’ he added quietly, almost as if ashamed of himself, ‘but I’m scared that something will trigger me and all those tricks my therapist has taught me won’t be enough and, well… That’s all,’ he ended awkwardly and glanced at the group leader who gave him a warm smile.

‘Thank you for sharing your story with us, James,’ Jim nodded and returned to his place, pulling his knees to his chest, ‘Now,’ the man continued, looking around, ‘if there’s no-one else who would like to speak, we-’

Sebastian raised his hand.

‘Can I say something?’ He asked, sounding slightly surprised by his own words.

‘Sure,’ the leader - Max? Lionel? - gave him a reassuring smile and gestured him to the podium. Suddenly unsure of his decision, Seb stepped forward and glanced around.

‘My name...’ he cleared his throat, feeling terribly aware of his dirty clothes and unwashed hair, ‘My name is Sebastian and I’m an addict. My… experience with drugs started when I met my partner. We were both in our early twenties, two stupid spoiled kids spending most of their nights in clubs and discos. So we started to experiment and, well, you can image how it went from there. But then,’ he swallowed, feeling tightness in his chest, ‘after over three years of being together my partner left me. For me it was like going down slippery slope: mixing drugs with alcohol, doing everything to forget. I reached the bottom and stayed there for quite a long time,’ Seb took a deep breath and ran his hand over his face, ‘My parents had no idea what I was doing, I think that they still don’t know for sure. But I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them. One day, when I was as high as a kite, my mother called me. She was worried, because I hadn’t contacted them for ages. I,’ he blinked away the tears, ‘I could feel how worried and sad she was. I tried to tell her that everything was fine, but all I could do was mumble something incoherent. And then… she burst into tears. It was like a b-blow to the head. I, I had never seen my mother cry before and now she was and it was all because of me. So I decided that I have to stop, because my parents l-love me and they don’t d-deserve to be hurt like this.’

Sebastian bit his lip. Why did he even decide to speak at this meeting? He couldn’t even _imagine_ how difficult it was to talk about this.

‘But I can’t even do that right,’ he continued; he couldn’t stop now, it was a strangely cathartic experience. ‘Since I left the rehab I fell out of the wagon two times already. I, I feel d-disgusted with myself and-’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t… I just can’t...’

He grabbed his coat and stormed out of the room, swearing he would never return there again. Feeling embarrassed, Seb stopped at the corner of the street and looked for his cigarettes. He knew it was stupid, that he was replacing one addictive substance with another, but he couldn’t help it - smoking calmed him down. He was about to lit a cigarette when he heard someone calling his name. He turned around quickly and found himself face to face with the dark-haired man from the meeting. James.

‘Y-yes?’ He mumbled, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

‘Why did you leave?’ James asked, hugging himself. He was shaking slightly and Seb noticed that he wasn’t wearing his coat.

‘Because I’m ashamed of myself,’ the blond admitted and shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant.

‘But why? Do you know how many people fell out of the wagon after they decided to stop taking drugs? Max, the leader of the group - he tried three times before he finally succeeded.’

‘I know,’ Seb mumbled and felt his eyes well up with tears again, ‘b-but I still feel like a horrible failure. I hoped that sh-sharing my story with others w-would help me, but now I’m just ashamed of m-myself...’

‘I understand,’ Jim said softly, ‘and, and everyone there understands, too,’ he shyly reached out his hand, ‘Will you return to the meeting? With me?’

Sebastian’s eyes travelled from James’ outstretched hand to his face.

‘Why are you doing this?’ It was his time to ask.

‘Because I believe that everyone deserves a second chance,’ the wide brown eyes were  sincere, ‘Especially you.’

‘Especially me?’

‘Y-yes,’ Jim nodded, ‘because I...’ he looked down at his feet, ‘I don’t k-know, I just feel that, that...’

Delicately and a bit tentatively Sebastian took Jim’s hand in his.

‘Let’s go back inside, okay? I don’t want you to catch a cold,’ he gave the other man a small smile.

 

***

 

‘Baby?’ Sebastian yawned, rubbing his eye. ‘What are you doing here?’

Jim looked at him. He was kneeling on the bathroom floor in his pyjamas - Seb’s old T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts - and was cleaning the tiles with an old toothbrush.

‘I wanted to use the loo and I noticed this spot on one of the tiles. The floor’s dirty so I have to clean it.’

‘At four thirty in the morning?’ Seb let out another yawn.

James frowned and returned to cleaning the tiles.

‘I just don’t want any of us catching something horrible like mycosis or staphylococcus,’ he stated, ‘I don’t want this place contaminated.’

Sebastian shook his head and leant against the door frame. All the surfaces in their flat were so clean that he could eat from them, but by now he knew that voicing his opinion wouldn’t change Jim’s mindset. After all, he knew what he was signing up for when he decided to get involved with James. Actually, it seemed that everyone around him made sure that he was aware of what he was doing. Seb still remembered the awkward conversation with Jim’s therapist, during which he felt that he was under close scrutiny more appropriate for an overprotective parent than a professionalist. It turned out, though, that she had her reasons.

Being with James was difficult. At the beginning it was hard for Sebastian not to feel offended when Jim would run to brush his teeth every time he kissed him or use wet wipes after they held hands. He couldn’t take him out for dinner either, as Jim refused to eat anything that he didn’t prepare himself. Not to mention that, at this point, sex was also out of the question. Getting used to all that was a bit of a challenge at first, he had to admit, but Sebastian was a patient man and he wouldn’t even dream of pushing Jim to do something he didn’t feel comfortable doing. There was time for everything and they were working on it, one step at a time. And all this effort must have been worth it because Seb had never felt happier. Yes, he was still replenishing Jim’s supply of cleaning product and doing other things which would only anger Jim’s therapist (‘You just accommodate to his behaviour! You’re not really helping him, quite the opposite.’), but it was the only way to compromise. I’ll buy you your cleaning products, but we’re going to eat out today; I’ll clean the kitchen your way, but you can’t correct after me. Simple as that.

‘You finish this and I’m taking you back to bed,’ Sebastian’s eyes followed quick, precise movements of James’ hands, ‘And no more cleaning for you today.’

Jim looked at him, frowning.

‘But, Seb-’

‘It’s your day off, love. And you’re supposed to rest on your days off. So, no cleaning.’

‘Can I at least have a shower after I’m done?’

‘What for? Besides,’ Sebastian delicately stroked Jim’s hair, ‘I love when you smell so clean,’ he smiled, seeing the other man’s cheeks turning pink.

Huffing, James dipped his head and returned to scrubbing the tiles.

‘Why am I even with you?’ He murmured.

‘Because you love me and I love you,’ Seb’s hand slid from Jim’s head onto the nape of his neck. James wasn’t the first one to ask this question, though. People seemed to be surprised that a neat freak could even live with such a slob like Sebastian. To be honest, Sebastian sometimes wondered about that himself. He couldn’t remember the exact moment when Jim stopped being a colleague from the support group and became something more. Was it when he was ill and Jim came into his flat and took care of him despite the place being filled with germs? Or maybe when the man asked him to look after his cat because he trusted him (and no-one had ever trusted Sebastian with anything)? Or during that evening when James ran after him and convinced him to return to the meeting? All he knew was that right now he was helplessly in love with Jim with all his quirks and little routines and being together was the best thing that could happen to both of them.

‘Done,’ Jim put the toothbrush down and glanced up at Seb, ‘Happy?’

‘Very,’ the blond smiled and, in one swift movement, he picked the other man up and threw him over his shoulder, earning a muffled ‘Seb’ from Jim. ‘Now we’re going to bed and you’re going to stay in it to at least ten. Then I’ll make you a delicious breakfast.’

‘Fine, fine.’

 

As he observed Jim sleeping by his side, Sebastian couldn’t help but smile. They might be just two messed up and troubled men, but together they help each other and, somehow, make this work. Because as long as James described him in his journal - yes, James kept a journal as a part of his therapy and yes, Sebastian was enough of a creep to read it - as the ‘man who smokes and has loads of tattoos and hasn’t washed his hair in a week, but there is something about him that makes me feel safe and I like it’, Seb was the happiest man in the world.

 

* * *

 

 

[ ](http://teehewz.tumblr.com/post/105717422773/this-man-smokes-and-has-loads-of-tattoos-and)

**Author's Note:**

> The art used in this fic was made by the amazing teehewz: [click](http://teehewz.tumblr.com/post/105717422773/this-man-smokes-and-has-loads-of-tattoos-and)


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